Of Warp & Woof

"Woof! Woof!" said Andre Kostelanetz' score. "Woof! Woof!" yelped a pretty young lady as the conductor gave her the cue. Then Kostelanetz turned gracefully away from Washington's National Symphony Orchestra to a man standing in front of the podium, who promptly let fly across the stage with a bowling ball and scored a clean--and noisy--strike. Kostelanetz beamed at the rumble and thud. A few minutes later the music sped up to sound like a bustling city: a rescue-squad man started a wailing siren, a park policeman astride his motorcycle to the right of the stage blew his whistle.

The occasion for all the special effects was the world premiere of Ferde (Grand Canyon Suite} Grofe's latest effort as a musical local-colorist, Hudson River Suite, in Washington, D.C.'s leafy Carter Barren Amphitheater. Its five movements describe 1) The River, with quickened tempo as it surges past Bear Mountain, and broad majesty as it reaches the Palisades; 2) Hendrick Hudson, the intrepid explorer, portrayed in horns and woodwinds and thundering percussion, often wistful because of his tragic end; 3) Rip Van Winkle, a clever description of the Washington Irving tale, in which Rip whistles for his dog (which answers "Woof! Woof!"), watches the dwarfs play at ninepins, has a couple of drinks while the bassoons rollick, sleeps it off and then calls for his dog (no "Woof"); 4) The Albany Night Boat, mostly moonlight and summer, and a five-piece Dixieland band on deck; 5) New York, a one-minute explosion in which the percussionists and their public-service assistants beat, squeeze, crank, .crash and blow vigorously.

At the end of its first rehearsal last week, Conductor Kostelanetz bounded off the podium and congratulated rotund Composer Grofe. "You really started something," said Grofe. Actually, whether the result was more effective as music or just enthusiastically collected noise, it was "Kosty" himself who started it. For seven years he has dreamed of channeling the Hudson musically, last fall commissioned Grofe in New York City. Grofe read a book about the river, recalled some river lore of his own (at six months he rode an Albany boat for two weeks to escape an epidemic on the Lower East Side), and sat down to compose in his study overlooking the Pacific Ocean. A fortnight ago the score was finished and airmailed to Kostelanetz.

"I've never used so many effects before," said Grofe. But he had no cause to worry about his amateur specialists. The motorcycle policeman took the assignment in stride ("I don't feel much different; I can handle it") and the siren man was even more blase about his symphonic debut ("Doesn't bother me; I used to be in the Bethesda-Chevy Chase High School Band"). Sally Herman, who does the barking, is a 25-year-old credit assistant at George Washington University Hospital. She landed the job unexpectedly by winning an audition over five real dogs. "I've never barked professionally," she explained. "I bark for kicks."

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